A room

No, I didn't get one. I got invited, and then I got uninvited. Looks like making the living room smoke-free was not as negotiable as they first assumed. Three hurray's for consistancy.

That's about all I have to say, I think...

I have a party tomorrow, though I'm not sure I feel like it. A friend of mine is having her birthday, and she's the kind of person who will invite 60 people (I'm not kidding. Sixty.) and still realise she forgot people. I've also been warned that I cannot crash in her large bed, as I normally do, because a male friend claimed the spot. I suspect that's why she's been acting strange lately.

I don't generally like her when she has a boyfriend. When she's single, she's a nice, confident young woman, even if she's a little overbearing. She's spent her entire childhood trying to prove she was worth being around to her dad (and failed), and the habit kind of stuck. Add a boyfriend in the mix, and she suddenly gathers the notion that, hey, a guy likes her, so she must actually be worth being around! It amplifies her already strong display of confidence by about fifty, and it's suffocating. Besides that, she tends to flaunt her sexuality even worse when she has a boyfriend, and her sexuality is probably one of the last things I want to be made aware of.

I'm not saying she's ugly. Moshie says it of her often enough. I'm just saying that flaunting her sexuality in front of me since I was 12 doesn't help. At 18, I could be called shy. Imagine that at twelve. Sheer traumatising. She actually tried to do a show and tell. It still makes cold shivers run down my spine.

So no, I didn't need to know just what you do with a condom six years ago, and I don't need to hear about one-night stands now either. (Well, stands... As it turns out, neither of them managed to get it up. I don't blame them. When Blondie's in the mood, she scares even me.)

And no, I don't want to know what's going to be happening one floor above me tomorrow night. I'm hoping Blondie and her blond friend will spare me, but I doubt I'll be so lucky. Sometimes being attuned to people's thoughts and emotions sucks.

Of course, nothing is final yet. Blondie won't even tell me; she just flaunts the possibility and throws me obvious hints about how happy she is lately and how she's spent most her days with him. I think she wants me to ask, but I refuse to show interest in the information.

La la la, I can't hear you. La la la.

I'll just camp downstairs with my own bed, blanket and pillow (how am I going to drag that all along in the train?) along with all the other banished friends. With any luck, we'll have the snackables.

Oh, crap.

I still have to get her something. And bring my own food and drinks.

Who ever said friendship pays for itself, never met Blondie.


Think on it,
Erane

P.S. ... I like that. It's about the Pensieve, about the leftover thoughts... and it doesn't sound as disgusting as "Slither away, my precious", which was my first instinct. I think this one's a keeper. Think on it. Yesh, me like...!